Read Online Dragon Blood-Hurog 2 by Patricia Briggs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Briggs
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hues of red.
Someone called, "We need help!"
"I am helping," said a monster with glowing jade eyes. "If I don't keep this barrier up, his magic guardian
in the woods will destroy us all. That's why I had to wait until now, during the day, when it is at its weakest. You go fight him—that's what you do."
They came with clubs and swords, and I hurled them into the ocean that somehow yawned behind them.
After the first few, though, the demons were ready and their weapons began to find their mark.
"I thought the king wanted him alive," someone exclaimed harshly. For a moment I knew it was Garranon, but then that understanding left me.
It was hard to fight with the manacles on, so when I'd won myself some space, I pulled. The links bent, but not enough.
Someone swore, then said, "Look at what he did to that chain." Something hit me in the back of the knee and I stumbled. My vision exploded in a flash of light as I was
hit again.
I woke on a pile of straw in a small room dimly lit by a window high above. Garranon sat on his heels beside me.
"The demons didn't get you," I whispered, because I was certain I could hear the rustle of their feet just outside.
"I think they did," he said, sounding sad.
There was something I'd wanted to tell him, but I couldn't quite … "I have a secret," I said.
"Don't tell anyone," he replied, looking a little worried.
"It's for you—Ward wants you to know."
"Ah." He looked a little confused, but made no other sound.
"Isn't your fault," I said. It was harder to talk than usual, my tongue felt swollen. "Jakoven would have done it anyway."
"Would you have come if I hadn't been there?" he said bitterly. I nodded. "Hurog's not completed. Not prepared to take on the king. Ward had to come, he knew it was a trap."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html He knelt down. "Ward?"
But when he knelt, he turned into my father and I curled into a ball. Father was angry with me, and I knew that his anger always hurt.
After a while the door opened and shut, and I was alone.
If I burrowed under the straw that covered the floor, the demons couldn't find me. Terror was my closest friend; my room was rank with the smell of it The only hope I clung to was that if I could hide long
enough, I knew the dragon would come and save me.
4—TISALA
Some stereotypes are useful. Certainly I've never met a dishonorable Oranstonian, nor a Shavigman who
wasn't happy to fight.
Tisala paced the confines of Ward's room. Waiting here while someone else dealt with her problems was harder than the role she'd accepted in her father's little plot—which was just what Ward had thought
it to be.
It had been her father who proposed it Alizon had been none too happy about her knowing everything— his plans were more than Ward had guessed. Enough more, she hoped, for her father and others she cared about to triumph over Jakoven. But Ward had been brutal in his dismissal of Alizon' s rebellion, and his recital had had the ring of truth about it.
She'd been too long among men who grasped every straw as a great hope and built a house of it. Everything she knew of Ward told her that he saw the world as clearly as any. If he saw disaster, she was afraid he was right.
It was too quiet.
A keep always has noise: people going about their lives, the clash of weapons as the Guard trained, the creak of wagon wheels. With the king's troops here it should have been louder than ever. But there was no sound here at all, not since the tremendous booming cracks of wood on wood, and Tisala was growing even more nervous.
She sat down abruptly, fighting the dizzy exhaustion that claimed her at unexpected minutes. Some aspect of the magic Oreg had used to help heal her, Ward had explained. The soreness was mostly gone, though her left hand ached. Oreg warned her it might not ever have much strength, but he'd been pleased that she could open and shut it completely. She'd been pleased that
it was
Someone called, "We need help!"
"I am helping," said a monster with glowing jade eyes. "If I don't keep this barrier up, his magic guardian
in the woods will destroy us all. That's why I had to wait until now, during the day, when it is at its weakest. You go fight him—that's what you do."
They came with clubs and swords, and I hurled them into the ocean that somehow yawned behind them.
After the first few, though, the demons were ready and their weapons began to find their mark.
"I thought the king wanted him alive," someone exclaimed harshly. For a moment I knew it was Garranon, but then that understanding left me.
It was hard to fight with the manacles on, so when I'd won myself some space, I pulled. The links bent, but not enough.
Someone swore, then said, "Look at what he did to that chain." Something hit me in the back of the knee and I stumbled. My vision exploded in a flash of light as I was
hit again.
I woke on a pile of straw in a small room dimly lit by a window high above. Garranon sat on his heels beside me.
"The demons didn't get you," I whispered, because I was certain I could hear the rustle of their feet just outside.
"I think they did," he said, sounding sad.
There was something I'd wanted to tell him, but I couldn't quite … "I have a secret," I said.
"Don't tell anyone," he replied, looking a little worried.
"It's for you—Ward wants you to know."
"Ah." He looked a little confused, but made no other sound.
"Isn't your fault," I said. It was harder to talk than usual, my tongue felt swollen. "Jakoven would have done it anyway."
"Would you have come if I hadn't been there?" he said bitterly. I nodded. "Hurog's not completed. Not prepared to take on the king. Ward had to come, he knew it was a trap."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html He knelt down. "Ward?"
But when he knelt, he turned into my father and I curled into a ball. Father was angry with me, and I knew that his anger always hurt.
After a while the door opened and shut, and I was alone.
If I burrowed under the straw that covered the floor, the demons couldn't find me. Terror was my closest friend; my room was rank with the smell of it The only hope I clung to was that if I could hide long
enough, I knew the dragon would come and save me.
4—TISALA
Some stereotypes are useful. Certainly I've never met a dishonorable Oranstonian, nor a Shavigman who
wasn't happy to fight.
Tisala paced the confines of Ward's room. Waiting here while someone else dealt with her problems was harder than the role she'd accepted in her father's little plot—which was just what Ward had thought
it to be.
It had been her father who proposed it Alizon had been none too happy about her knowing everything— his plans were more than Ward had guessed. Enough more, she hoped, for her father and others she cared about to triumph over Jakoven. But Ward had been brutal in his dismissal of Alizon' s rebellion, and his recital had had the ring of truth about it.
She'd been too long among men who grasped every straw as a great hope and built a house of it. Everything she knew of Ward told her that he saw the world as clearly as any. If he saw disaster, she was afraid he was right.
It was too quiet.
A keep always has noise: people going about their lives, the clash of weapons as the Guard trained, the creak of wagon wheels. With the king's troops here it should have been louder than ever. But there was no sound here at all, not since the tremendous booming cracks of wood on wood, and Tisala was growing even more nervous.
She sat down abruptly, fighting the dizzy exhaustion that claimed her at unexpected minutes. Some aspect of the magic Oreg had used to help heal her, Ward had explained. The soreness was mostly gone, though her left hand ached. Oreg warned her it might not ever have much strength, but he'd been pleased that she could open and shut it completely. She'd been pleased that
it was
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